


Sherlock Holmes Wants Another Child

by joinallthefandoms



Series: The Story Of How The Lonely Detective With A Skull Found Himself With A Family [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Kidlock, M/M, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joinallthefandoms/pseuds/joinallthefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I mean, the title is pretty self-explanatory;..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock and John waved at Hamish as his dinosaur backpack disappeared within the hordes of bustling children that were entering the classroom. The couple waited just a few moments after the hallway had cleared before walking out of the building. John took Sherlock's hand in his as the cool, crisp January air hit him full in the face. Sherlock's gloved hand warmed his bare one as they strolled back to 221B. Hamish was already in the second grade at age six. He had been offered a seat in the fifth grade class for his advancement, but Sherlock adamantly refused it. He had skipped grades and his being so much younger and smarter than his classmates was what ignited the relentless bullying. But, those days were behind him and he had to make sure Hamish would never endure them. Sherlock thrust the dark thoughts and memories from his cluttered brain and made himself return to the present, where he was walking with his husband down a busy London lane.

John was being uncharacteristically quiet as the couple made their way back home. Sherlock quickly began to deduce: Avoidance of meeting his eyes suggested reluctance to ignite conversation, repeated slackening and tightening of grip was an indicator for nervousness... Conclusion: John had something he wanted to say but was too afraid to say it. If he so cared, Sherlock could have deduced it right then and there what John was too hesitant to say, but he had since learned that it was better for his husband to get it off his chest of his own accord. Slightly troubled but not worried, Sherlock kissed John on the forehead as he withdrew his keys from his pocket and opened the door to the warm flat. Sherlock bounded up the stairs with John at his heels, stripping of his gloves and coat as he entered the living room. He hung the coat on the hook and proceeded to stoke the fire while John made tea. The flat was the coziest place in London during the winter months, what with the cuddles and the fire and the horrid Christmas jumpers. 

John returned bearing a tray of tea and some of Mrs. Hudson's delicious biscuits. Sherlock was absentmindedly strolling through the boring emails from the boring clients. Delete, delete, spam, delete. He gave John a small smile as he took his tea and took a hearty gulp, instantly feeling the warmth pool in his stomach. He took the laptop off his legs as John came to sit beside him. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around his army doctor. John responded by leaning into his husband, be it reluctantly. Sherlock frowned as he observed John debating whether or not to speak his mind.

"Say whatever it is you need to say, John," Sherlock said, rubbing John's shoulder in a way he hoped conveyed compassion. John shifted under his touch, tucking his feet into the couch so as to look up at him. 

"Sherlock," he hesitated for a moment. "I've been thinking lately... do you maybe want to have another kid?" Sherlock felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the fire nor the tea. He tilted John's chin up and kissed him sweetly, washing away any fear or hesitation he was feeling. 

"Of course, John. Now that Hamish is six and manageable enough, I'm sure we can handle the responsibility of another child," Sherlock beamed. Any doubt or trepidation he had felt as they discussed having Hamish had faded now. Now all he felt was eagerness and anticipation. 

"Shall we ask Hamish or phone Molly first?" John asked, sipping from his tea as casually as he could. They were going to have another baby! Sherlock had to think for a second. 

"We should ask Molly in advance, just in case she doesn't want to carry another child and we get Hamish's hopes up," Sherlock reasoned. 

"Sherlock," John suddenly sat up in worry. "How are we going to explain this to Hamish? How are we going to explain his little brother or sister coming from Molly and not us?" John panicked.

"John, Hamish is a very smart boy. I'm sure it will only take a ten minute introduction to anatomy to explain it to him," Sherlock brought John back to him, and John came willingly, as his fear had been diffused by his husband''s logic. 

"I'm not going to be the one to give him that talk," he mumbled, Sherlock laughed, making John shake slightly with the rapid rise and fall of his chest. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Molly?" John called, poking his head into the lab. Seeing the mortician, he stepped into the room with Sherlock at his heels.

"Hey, John," she replied without taking her eyes off the microscope. "Hey, Sherlock." She looked up and smiled. 

"We have something we want to ask you," Sherlock said, forever abrupt in his manner. Molly's smile didn't even falter.

"Yeah?"

"Sherlock and I were wondering," John rapidly spoke up before his husband beat him to it. "I mean, we were thinking that maybe-"

"We want to have another child," Sherlock finished.  _Git,_ John thought. Molly shrugged.

"Sure, I'll carry for you," she said. Sherlock and John shared a look. 

"You're sure, then? I mean, do you want to consider it or..." John finally said. 

"Guys, you don't have to be so cautious about asking me this," she laughed. "i've done it once before, I'd be happy to do it again, as I've already told you."

John smiled and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you so much, Molly."

She pulled from the embrace and looked to Sherlock. "Will it be your DNA this time, then?"

"Yes," Sherlock responded. 

"Do you want to just give me a sample now, while you're here?" She asked, not a hint of sarcasm or laughter in her voice. 

"Uh.." Sherlock mumbled. "I don't know if I could, you know, get-"

"I can help with that," John purred. "We'll see you in ten minutes, Molly." Sherlock and Molly blushed but John just walked out of the lab with confidence, grabbing a specimen cup from the table as he left. Sherlock gave Molly a slightly apologetic look and stumbled after his husband, already kind of aroused by his self-assurance and confidence. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Hamish! Come down here please," John called. He walked back over to his husband, who was lounging in his chair with an air of ease about him. John, on the other hand, was jittery and nervous, and couldn't sit still for more than a few seconds before he resumed his pacing. 

Hamish came bounding down the stairs, his Jr. Chemist's purple gloves still on and stained with an assortment of colors. John didn't want to know.

"Yeah, Papa?" 

"We have something to talk to you about, 'Mish," Sherlock said, beckoning him over with a wave of his hand. John came to sit next to Sherlock on the arm of his chair and Hamish situated himself on the other. 

"Yeah?" 

"Um, Sherlock?" John asked, his eyes calling out a silent plea of "help." Sherlock nodded. 

"Hamish, you're a boy," Sherlock stated. 

"I know that, Daddy," Hamish chuckled. Daddy could be so silly sometimes. 

"Papa and I are boys, too," Sherlock said. "Usually, people have a father and a mother, but you have two fathers." Hamish nodded in understanding, because this was all too astoundingly obvious that he feared he would reply with something sarcastic that his Papa would say was "rude". 

"Do you know where babies come from when they're born?" Sherlock ventured forth, taking a chance.

"Yes," Hamish said. Sherlock gave him the you-need-to-prove-it look so he continued. "When a Daddy and a Mommy want to have a baby, they have sex and nine months later the Mommy has the baby." John opened his mouth to ask how his son even knew what sex was, but he had learned by now not to question Hamish's sudden acquisitions of knowledge. 

"Yes. So how can Papa and I have you?" Sherlock made a shot in the dark and guessed that, if the lecture was phrased and questioned like a test, Hamish would respond more enthusiastically. Hamish, as he had hoped, made a face of confusion as he attempted to work out the puzzle. 

"I dunno," he finally said. 

"Well, you know your Aunt Molly?" Sherlock asked. "She's your Mommy." Expecting tears and a moment of self-discovery, both John and Sherlock were shocked when their son just nodded.

"Okay," Hamish said. "So Papa is my father and Daddy is my second Mommy." John started laughing hysterically while Sherlock suppressed a small grin. 

"Yes, basically," Sherlock said, pinching John's hip to make him shut up. Much to his chagrin, it didn't work. "We're telling you this, 'Mish, because we want to know how you would feel about having a little brother or sister." Hamish made a face. 

"Would we fight like you and Uncle Mikey?" He asked. The nickname was overheard by Hamish at his grandparent's house and he had been using it ever since, to Mycroft's eternal frustration. 

"No, Hamish," John finally said, having come down off his euphoric laughter high.  _Second Mommy. "_ You would be good friends, best friends, even." Hamish made his super-thinking face and placed his hands under his chin. 

"Okay," he declared. "Can I go finish my experiment now?" John and Sherlock chuckled.

"Sure, Hamish," Sherlock said, giving his son a little push. Hamish ran back upstairs and closed his door, eager to resume his clinical research. (Oh my God, Papa, it obviously is clinical research, Aunt Molly said so.)

"He took that much better than I'd hoped," John said. 

"Much better than Mycroft did, anyway," Sherlock said, wrapping an arm around John's waist. 

"I can only imagine," John said. 

"His first word to me was 'idiot'," Sherlock revealed. "I was three minutes old." John laughed, pulling himself into Sherlock's lap. 

"Should we tell him that Molly is already two months along?" John asked. 

"No, let's let him believe it was his decision so when he inevitably complains we can blame him," Sherlock responded, combing his hands through his husband's graying hair. John laughed, making Sherlock smile. They heard a boom upstairs and Hamish's coughing and the smiles didn't even falter.

"Not again," John mumbled, removing himself from Sherlock's lap. 

"I really need to teach him basic chemistry," Sherlock replied, taking the stairs two at a time to rescue the mad scientist before he burned the entire flat down. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Aunt Molly, you're so big!" Hamish exclaimed as he tried to wrap his arms around Molly's rapidly swelling stomach. She was twelve weeks along and alarmingly big. This was her first ultrasound and the entire Watson-Holmes family was in attendance, even little Hamish. 

"Hamish, that's rude," John barely looked up from his paper. 

"Oh," the six-year old said in surprise. "Sorry, Aunt Molly." Molly chuckled and pressed a kiss to the kid's head.

"It's true, Hamish, I am huge." The "family" of four waited patiently in the waiting room until they were called just five minutes later.

"Molly Hooper and Sherlock Holmes?" The doctor called. She was just a tad alarmed when all of them approached, with Hamish leading the way. 

"I'm sorry, sir," she said, turning to John, as he assumed that the tiny look alike was his. "We don't allow children in the room while the ultrasound is taking place." Hamish pouted and crossed his arms, but a quick look from Sherlock told him that now was not the time to have a tantrum. He sat down in the chair next to the door and waved his parents in. John gave him his phone to play with and his anger was soon forgotten. 

They proceeded to the room, where Molly changed. She was so confident after being with Harry for so long that she didn't care if they were present while she changed, but Sherlock was. 

"John, step outside while Molly gets changed, please," Sherlock said, ushering his husband out the door. 

"Honestly, Sherlock?" John huffed. "I am gay for you and you still think I'm going to try to sneak a peek?"

"You weren't always gay, John," Sherlock reminded him. With a sigh of reluctant acceptance, John stepped outside. Sherlock was more than capable of ignoring Molly's naked body for a few seconds as she dressed in the hospital robes. Seeing Irene's body was the only data he would ever need for this area. He brought John back inside and the pair stood at Molly's head as the ultrasound progressed. 

John noticed before the doctor, and he gasped. Sherlock stared at the image, unable to discern anything in the black mass of shapes and waves. 

"What? What is it?" He hurriedly asked, fear and adrenaline making their way through his head and heart. John couldn't answer, as tears had overcome him.

"It's twins," the doctor gasped, moving the wand across the expanse of Molly's swelled stomach. Sherlock let out a squeal that wasn't particularly human-sounding and brought John into a euphoric hug. Tears escaped his eyes and fell into his husband's hair as the butterflies in his stomach were given steroids. Twins!

"Can you tell us the gender?" Molly asked, joyous tears welling in her eyes as well. 

"Not this early," John and the doctor said simultaneously. She shot John a more-than-suggestive smile, which provoked Sherlock into pressing his lips passionately to john's. 

Five minutes later, Molly was cleaned of the ultrasound gel and dressed once more. She, Sherlock, and John left the room with high spirits. Hamish was thoroughly engrossed in an app John had downloaded for him, one that allowed him to combine chemicals virtually and view the different reactions. He only looked up when tapped on the shoulder. When he saw that all three adults had tears stains on their faces, he panicked.

"What's wrong?' He asked. 

"Nothing's wrong, 'Mish," John said. "It's just that Aunt Molly is going to have two babies instead of one."

" _Two_ babies?" Hamish said in incredulity, staring at Molly's stomach with huge eyes. "In there?"

"Well, technically, they're not babies yet-" Sherlock began. 

"Shut up, you idiot," John affectionately said, pressing a kiss to his husband's cheek. He shut up. 

"So, they're going to be here in November, Daddy?" Hamish asked.

"Yes, Hamish," Sherlock answered. Hamish suddenly looked up in horror.

"They're not sleeping in my room, right?" Sherlock, John, and Molly laughed.

"Papa, I'm serious," Hamish whined. The adults just kept laughing. After a few moments, Hamish reluctantly joined in.

The group proceeded back to 221B where celebrations were had and families were called. Greg and Mycroft came just an hour after they were summoned. Upon entering, Sherlock's interest was piqued by the Detective Inspector and his brother.

"Why did you take the same car?" Sherlock asked, bypassing the usual formalities that burdened social gatherings such as this. Greg blushed but Mycroft smoothly replied. 

"It was more convenient." Sherlock's face became painted with over-dramatic horror as he deduced them.

"Oh my God," he gasped. "You're shagging!" He proclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Greg blushed an even darker tone of scarlet and even Mycroft looked sheepish. 

"Ew!" Sherlock yelled. "John, they're shagging!" John just laughed at his husband's display of theatrics. 

"Congratulations, you two," John chuckled. "You both needed to relieve some stress."

"Well, this is dreadful," Mycroft said, dragging a hand down his haggard face. Sherlock was still dancing about the flat yelling "ew ew ew ew you're my brother you're not allowed to even hold someone's hand ever" and "ew, Gavin, ew". 

"No one really cares, Mycroft," John assured him. 

"EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW," Sherlock yelled.

"None of the sane people here really care, Mycroft," John corrected. "Come have a drink."

Lestrade and Mycroft were sure to sit very far apart on the sofa, with Molly and Hamish between them. The ambiance gradually improved as Sherlock calmed down and Hamish performed a composition of his very own on his violin. Hamish went to bed at nine, Molly left at ten, and Greg and Mycroft at twelve. Before they left, they shared a grin and looked at Sherlock. 

"Sherlock?" Mycroft called. 

"What?" Sherlock replied, looking up from his husband, whom he had been kissing. Mycroft grabbed Greg fiercely by the back of the head and brought him into a deep kiss. 

"EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW STOP IT RIGHT NOW, MYCROFT," Sherlock exclaimed. 

"Goodnight, Sherlock," Greg waved. The pair exited the flat, leaving Sherlock a sputtering mess. 

John took Sherlock's hand and ignored his exclamations about the obscenity and immaturity of his idiot brother. The couple, only slightly drunk, exchanged a couple sloppy blowjobs (hey, it was the loudest they could do when their son was just upstairs) and fell into bed, utterly exhausted by the day's exciting turn of events. They were having twins! Never in their lives had John Watson and Sherlock Holmes been more happy, nor more anxious. There was much to do and to settle out, but the overwhelming euphoria of the news never left them, even as they fell asleep in each other's arms. 

 

 


End file.
